


The Vigil Mind

by Gazizaty



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Friendship/Love, M/M, Manipulation, Obsessive Behaviour, Pre-Canon, Slash, Time Travel, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-22
Updated: 2014-01-10
Packaged: 2017-12-20 23:19:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/893072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gazizaty/pseuds/Gazizaty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>PreAC1. Desmond did not believe where the man had come from, nor did he try to reason with why he kept bumping into him. But the name sufficed, and his presence alone was enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. December 31st

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT: Hey guys, I know a quite a few of you have been wanting me to update this for quite some time now and truthfully, I had a few ideas going but I never knew how to execute them well enough. It's sad for me to say this (mostly because my heart it not in this fandom anymore, I still love it and all, but I feel not as much as I use to) but I don't think I'm going to continue this, or at least any time soon. idek, I just don't wana make you guys wait so I'm really sorry. Maybe one day, I'll return...thank you all, much love x

It was an unsurprisingly rowdy evening at the bar, to say the least. Many were celebrating tonight, cheering together in arms with alcohol filled beverages in hand. Every now and then, friends would encourage each other to knock back a couple of shots, followed by roars of laughter in the dimly lit room. Party hats and horns were a plenty. The people inside simultaneously watched the clock ticking louder than usual on the wall, and the television next to it broadcasting a live screening of the countdown to new years.

With a cloth in hand, Desmond continued to dry the inside of a washed glass cup. After a full shift of work and the last few hours spent pushing himself to the limit to serve the last dozen handful of thirsty customers, everything eventually cooled down. His back ached, feet were numb and his arms started to throb, but Desmond was content. All the patrons ignored him and were now paying close attention to the glowing box on the wall like little flies, which meant no costumers were complaining to him for a lousy nights service. Which also meant Desmond did a good job, and he felt he deserved some alone time.

His eyes slide to the dusty, neon lit clock hanging on the wall, squinting. "Hmm, fifteen more minutes," he mutters to himself, shaking his head, "and it'll be like the fourth of July here all over again."

The chill air of the outdoors is instant, Desmond takes heed of the door being opened but not the person that walks through. _'Another one at **this** hour?'_ he thought with a brief, delicate glance at the persons lower half, and back again. Calmly, the stranger approaches Desmond and takes his seat on the worn bar stool. In turn, Desmond takes a quick, deep breath, forcing to relax himself. He didn't want to really deal with another one right now, he wanted his "five minute" break to himself, wanted the others on his shift to come back from the storeroom from celebrating together when he so volunteered to keep an eye on the bar.

Oh right.

Well, it's just the last few minutes.

"Hey," Desmond smiles, "what can I get you?"

The stranger is quiet at first, all was hidden under that tattered black hood of his save for the small stubble on the chin of his tanned face. His black locks of hair poked through, shielding his eyes. He looked pretty menacing and scruffy, but Desmond was not unfamiliar. He was pretty sure he had gotten a few odd looks here and there when he wore his set of clothing outside. The mysterious man flicked his wrist at Desmond, didn't even bother to look at him.

"Don't care," his voice was deep, "give me the cheapest thing you got."

The stranger turned his head to the crowd behind him who were glued to the television. All were being loud and unruly, as if they were trying to top who could generate the loudest noise with their tiny party horns. Desmond put his glass and table-cloth down, getting straight to work. He couldn't see his face, but he no doubt knew the man was sneering. _'A regular Scrooge huh,'_ he rolls his eyes, pouring the liquid into a short glass and placing it onto the bar.

"Here," Desmond says, calling the man's attention,"cheapest thing we got."

He looks at it for moment, before the stranger grabs the cup and chugs the water down in one swift gulp and sets it back down. Desmond cringes at the sight, being careful not to be elaborate. "That was weak." the man comments, almost growling.

Desmond nods, "You did say the cheapest thing."

"Another then," the stranger huffed, and automatically Desmond sets another drink. The man turns to the crowd once more, "what are these poor idiots so cheery about?" he grumbles.

Desmond raises a brow, _'So I was right about the whole Scrooge thing,'_ he wants to chuckle, "Well it **is** new years eve, pal. Time for celebration, time for a new start," he pushes the newly made drink forwards to the man, who watches a scene of two drunkards are falling over each other and laughing, "time to get drunk off our asses too."

"So it seems," the stranger smirks and downs his second glass as easily as his first, "didn't even realise we'd come to the end of another year actually. Too bad I'm not in a festive mood, or all this togetherness and smiles might actually make me believe tomorrow will be any different. Or the next days even."

Desmond is wise enough not to make a remark on that, and tries to create another topic of interest. "You don't sound like you're from around here. You're not from around here, are you?" It was a stab in the dark, but a common question Desmond always asked to any new face.

The man finished his drink, and answered coolly. "No."

It didn't sound like the man wanted to continue, so that topic was instantly dropped. Desmond mind raced to think of a new one, before his thoughts were disrupted by the enormous cries of the other patrons inside shouting off to the new year, and the television that highlighted all the fireworks and glittering lights of the city where other people embraced the night. Streamers were instantly pulled, creating colourful ribbons in the air and tangling in various places. The fireworks were so noisy that Desmond could hear them outside from where he stood. People kissed and hugged one another, all in the name of the new beginning.

Desmond smirked, watching over the happy and lively ones, "Happy new year, huh?" he shrugged, "Well, I guess it wouldn't hurt if I should somehow start celebrating this..." he lost track of his words the moment he noticed the stranger now staring at him. His hood pulled back slightly revealing his weary but attentive eyes. The man was not scruffy looking as Desmond previously imagined. In fact, the man looked as young as himself, maybe even younger. His dark olive coloured skin complimented the long lashes of his eyes and plump lips, completing an exotic look. Dusky, abysmal eyes seemed to lock on to Desmond's face, but not on to his eyes. Rather, just down below them, at Desmond's scarred lips.

The stranger kept staring, fixated as if he had zoned out into a daydream like state. It made Desmond flushed slightly, feeling the weight of the man's gaze very uncomfortable. He had stopped during mid sentence so his lips were parted, and so he slowly pressed them back with a nervous cough. The stranger did not flinch or falter back. He slowly withdrew himself and simply closed his eyes, reopening them to look at Desmond with a warm smile. Desmond felt his face heat more, felt paralyzed and unmovable. As if there was something magnetic drawing him to this person. Like he was trapped, and there was no escape.

The noise of a door in the distance, around the back, vibrated through the air as it swung open. People's voices called after, with someone running down to the front of the bar. The bars divider was pushed over, and Desmond felt strong arms wrapping around him and pulling into a tight embrace.

"Happy new years buddy!" a male voice screamed into his ear, "Aww yeah, boy I'm going to make the most of this year I swear, no more gambling debts for this one."

The wind was taken out of him, but Desmond couldn't help but laugh dryly, trying to pull away, "Yeah yeah, that's great Travis. Mind screaming into my other ear was well? I don't think I'm fully deaf yet."

Travis playfully stuck his tongue out, "What ever man, it's freakin' new years!" he lets go and nudges Desmond, "You should be in the back with me and the rest going crazy and shit! We're going to start a drinking game after we clear out too."

"And if I was to join you guys, who would be minding the bar, huh?" Desmond says, folding his arms.

"Ahh, you're no fun." Travis waved him off.

"Alright, alright. Fine, I'll catch up with you guys in a bit if you help me out here a little, deal?"

"Deal!" Travis affectionately grabbed him by the shoulders and squeezed him.

Desmond watched him run off and join the others, smiling tiredly. He turned to look back at his latest companion, expecting him to have minded his own business. Only now he finds out that he had vanished during his banter with Travis. Desmond clocked his head left and right, even trying to peek over the crowds if he could spot the man, if he had lingered about still. But nothing, the man was simply gone. Desmond was left a little saddened, but he shrugged it off seconds later anyhow.

 _'Ahh shit, his tab...'_ Desmond frowned, teeth gritting. He sighs, gazing down to the bars surface, but he notices something out of place. He's pulls out the paper tucked under a coaster and is met with the historical figure face of Benjamin Franklin. His eyes widen, _'Holy shit! That can't be...could it be from...him?'_

Desmond tries to remember his face, the way the stranger looked and everything that transpired between them in the short amount time they had. Every little detail seemed to run away from him, but he catches them. He catches on and tries to block out the noise around him. The soft almost doe like eyes, and rich skin of colour on the man. Desmond kept mixing him up with the countless other costumers he had encountered, but then he remembers the last thing from him. Something that felt almost all too important now. His kind smile.

Desmond shivered, _'Geez, what the hell is wrong with me?'_

From the corner of his eyes, he spots Travis at the other end of the bar with some pretty girls. He starts waving at him, ushering him to come over. He shakes his head at Travis and his flirtious behaviour, then smirks. Desmond turns to the bill in hand for a second, before stashing it away safely and walking over. What little he could remember of the stranger now and what transpired, is now blocked away for the rest of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Posted with no beta) I saw some where another person with the same idea (had no idea) after I had finished writing this chapter, but my take on is actually a whole lot different so I'm comfortable with posting this now. I don't honestly know where I'm going with this, but I just had to write about it a bit even. Not even sure if I'll have an end, but it's gotten some of my interest.


	2. Suspect

"So...how many drinks does it take for you to finally decide that yesterday night was a bad idea?"

Travis rears his head from the bar, glaring at Desmond with sullen eyes. He lowers his head back down, emitting a guttural sound that makes Desmond laugh, "I'd say one too many, am I right?"

"Oh would you shut up," Travis growls, laying his head flat sideways and faced him, "besides...you pretty much enjoyed yourself last night too, that much I remember."

"Well sure I did," Desmond nods, "I _was_ a bit tipsy, but what I really enjoyed was the part you decided it was a good idea to strip in front of the girls we just met and started flexing."

"Ahh...fuck, did I really do that?"

Desmond continues to wipe the surface with a cloth, laughing softly at Travis' reaction, "Yep, you did. Biceps and all, you seemed pretty keen on showing your 'bad boys' to them no matter how many times I told you to put them away."

Travis begrudgingly lifts himself away from the bar, rubbing his face and sighs, "Damn it...I shouldn't have taken those shots."

"You got that right. By my third attempt trying to stop you your pants were already gone." shrugs Desmond, "Yeah you're an idiot, and a pretty lousy stripper."

Travis chuckles, "Hey now, don't be jealous of my boys here." He then pats his arms, proceeding to make silly faces, "They both got you their numbers, right? Uhh, I think..."

" _Helped_ ," Desmond reminds, then turns away as his voice grows shy, "and...just one of them."

Travis' lips press together, "Oooh, was it that lovely red head? Buddy, tell me it was her, yes?"

"Actually, it was her friend."

"Oh...her?" Travis' brows knit together, "She was kinda quiet."

"She's cute!" Desmond blurts, arguing. "And might I remind you that you were drunk at the time."

Travis waves him off again, his head shaking, "Ah what ever man, I got- **helped** you with this. So you owe me one."

"Oh I owe you one huh?" Desmond starts to wipe the bar again, smirking to himself, "Riiiight..."

"Yeah, aaaaand..." Travis slurs, "You gonna call her even?" Travis looks up and down at Desmond, who's making it quite clear he wants to avoid his gaze.

"I don't know...maybe?" he hesitates, "I know I said she was cute but...I don't think I'm really-"

"Bzzzt! Wrong," Travis corrects him and rolls off the bar, wobbling to his feet, "don't play hard to get right now, I know she's into you-"

"You were drunk, you can't tell."

"-and she is pretty frisky."

"You just said she was kinda quiet!"

"Dude!" Travis finally shouts, "Just shut up, listen to me and call her! Okay?"

"Fiiiine..." Desmond flicks out his phone buried in his pockets. Glaring with boredom at his screen, before checking the time. "But...it's lunch, and I'm starving. Lunch?"

"Hmm," Travis looks around the quiet room, spotting one of their colleagues not to far away and waves them over, "okay, a quick break."

* * *

Desmond walks up to stand in the queue, a bottle of water in hand and packet of chips in the other. He hears his voice being called out, turns to see Travis making his way over, his hands full, as he shuffles beside him in line.

"There's a basket, you know." said Desmond, shaking his head.

Travis grins, "I know."

"And sweets? Really Travis?"

"Hey you're the one always sharing half the stuff I bring to work, remember?" Travis pouted, pushing the items he had on to Desmond. "Oh wait, hold these for a sec."

"Huh-!" Desmond balanced himself awkwardly, almost dropping Travis' load.

"Ah shit," Travis patted himself, his pockets and searched inside his coat, "I forgot my wallet at work again."

Desmond rolled his eyes, "I'll pay for them."

"Whoa, really?"

"Yeah I got cash, pay me back later." Desmond explains, "Just...take back your stuff please."

"You know you're the best, right Des?" Travis cooed, smiling sweetly and batting his eyes.

Desmond just shook his head once more, smirking, "And you're an idiot, as per usual."

He handed back Travis' items carefully, slowly stepping forward with the queue as it moved. Desmond paid no attention to his friend, who was acting the reminiscent of a child in a candy store. He faced forward, walked a little closer than he realised to the patron in front of himself who was dealing with the cashier.

"Really...?" The cashier seemed annoyed by the tone of her voice, and the man in front of her just shrugged, "Don't have anything smaller?"

"No." he replies smoothly, grabbing his items off the counter quick, "Keep the change."

The cashier looked taken by surprised, watching the man quietly take his leave. The whole time the patron had kept his head down, avoiding eye contact with anyone else, cloaked under his hood. "Okay then..." The cashier said no more, rather pleased with the transaction. Desmond caught a brief glimpse of the cashier slipping the note away in the till, but the numbers five and zero stood out pretty obvious between her fingers.

Desmond cringed, _'Are you seriously kidding me?'_

Travis nudged him forward, loading his items on to the counter with Desmond following calmly. They let the woman scan their items, as Desmond looked around the store, specifically outside. The last man was still there in his dark hoodie, although just outside the sliding doors. He stopped to pull out the wrapping on his carton of cigarettes, discarding the plastic lazily before pulling out one and lighting it himself. After a long drag, he proceeded to walk away. The grey smoke trailed from his body.

 _'...that's it?'_ Desmond glared, and found himself being nudged by Travis again.

"Yo, pay the lady Des." he said, and Desmond started fishing out his wallet from his pockets. He pulled out a note, passing it to the cashier. He turned back to doors again, waiting as the woman calculated his change.

"Thank you," she said sounding pretty tired. Desmond took his change whilst Travis grabbed their items in a plastic bag. Desmond counted his change gingerly as they walked off, fingers poking at his coins, keeping his thoughts to himself. Travis was already having a go opening one of the sweet packets eagerly, then devouring it's sugary contents. Desmond wasn't paying much attention to him or what happened next because when they approached closer to the doors, he nearly bumped into someone.

"Move," the man growled shoving past Desmond. Travis caught Desmond by his arm, jerking him away in time but not before giving that greasy-looking stranger a dirty look.

"Rude," he huffed, and pulled Desmond along with him. "let's go man."

Desmond blinked rapidly, unsure of what just took place.

* * *

The following morning, Desmond woke to the sound fists knocking loudly at his door. He didn't open his eyes at first, until the noise grew louder, becoming more urgent til he could take no more. He groans, stretching in bed and throwing off the covers. He felt dizzy the moment he slide his feet to the floor, feeling light-headed. Desmond limped his way to his front door in the living room, just outside his own bedroom. The light of the day was evident, peeking through the shutters of his window blinds, stripes all over the floor and furniture.

"Fuck, man...it's like," Desmond yawned, scratching his head as he turned to the clock on his wall, above his bedroom, "eleven...in the morning? Geez, can't a guy get some rest on his day off?"

He was met with the reply of more obnoxious banging on his door, and Desmond wasted no more time approaching his rude intruder. His hand rest on the bronze door knob for a second, before quickly deciding it was better to check through the small peek hole on his door. The glass was blurry, but Desmond could make out two people behind his door, wearing the same dark coloured clothing. Blue upon black, and the shiny glint on their chest. They shuffled, leaning against his door. One of them had their hands to themselves, the other prepared to knock again.

"Shit," Desmond's eyes widen, his voice barely above a whisper. "...police?"

They knocked again, causing Desmond to flinch. "Open up!" one says, raising his voice, "It's the police, don't worry. We're just here to ask about a few things that happened, sir."

 _'It really is them...'_ Desmond felt his throat clench, swallowing nervously, _'How did they...? Aww fuck...'_

He was even more hesitant to open the door now, but Desmond had the obvious inking feeling that they would never leave if he tried ignored them now. With much reluctance, he laid a hand on the door lock first, twisting it open with a distinct 'click' noise. He then squeezed the handle, his grip tightening as he slowly pulled the door open to be greeted with stoic faces.

"Desmond Miles?" one of them asked calmly, his partner already rummaging through insides of his coat.

Desmond barely had himself out in the open, a sliver of light on his face. "...yes?"

Both officers looked at each other with a nod, the one addressing Desmond first spoke with a charming smile, "We're here just here to ask a few questions, that's all. Mind if we come in?"

 _'Yes.'_ Desmond bit his lip, "Not at all."

Warily opening his door, the second officer pulled out his badge from his coats, as did the other. Their faces registered on the plastic card Desmond nodded, supposed they thought he must have made him a little safer. Desmond only felt like he wanted to shrink away.

"What is...the matter," Desmond carefully punctuated his words, "sir?"

"We have a warrant," the first one says, standing in front of him and quickly flashing a paper, to which Desmond didn't even get a chance to glance at the page. He was too busy worrying about the other officer poking his way through his home like it was his own, lifting lids off of jars and inspecting the dust of his tables.

"We're here to ask about what happened yesterday."

Desmond relaxed a bit, "...yesterday?"

"Yes, around noon to be exact. A robbery was reported around twelve thirty, the thief got away."

"Robbery?" Desmond could have collapsed on his feet from relief, but he also felt rather concerned about the lady behind that counter, "How?"

"We have footage of the crime happening, but unfortunately not a good enough angle to acquire the thief's identity. However," he says, sliding in, "we do have footage of you and another colleague of yours exiting the store just as the thief entered."

"I see." Desmond tries to recall that moment, and he does seem to recall the man who pushed past him. No time to think about how he really looked though. They both hear a loud thud from behind them, and Desmond spots the second officer trying to grab what ever he dropped underneath one of Desmond's cabinet. Desmond leans out, eyeing him worryingly, "Hey, please...careful with my stuff back there!"

"Mr Miles," the first officer walks straight into Desmond's view, voice loud and clear, "please focus. We're trying to report this case."

Desmond backs up, "R-Right, sorry."

* * *

"Can you believe this? Barging into my apartment like it's nothing," Desmond shouted angrily down his phone, stomping his way down the cobblestone path of the park, "I didn't even get time to look at the warrant they _flashed_ me with."

"Des- ugh, wait...hang on a second," Travis was on the line, trying to make sense of all his friends yelling, "the hell are you on about?"

"I told you this morning, the cops. Weren't you even listening?"

"Sort of." said Travis. "Too much...screaming though."

"I **wasn't** screaming," Desmond pouted. "and you should be annoyed too."

Travis sounded confused, "I should?"

"Yeah, didn't they search your house this morning too?"

"Uhh..." Travis thought briefly, Desmond could hear muffled voices in the background. "Hey, I'm a little busy over here!"

" **Travis.** " Desmond groaned.

"What? No, no they didn't." says Travis, there was a shuffling noise on the other end. Desmond guessed he was passing his phone to hold on his other shoulder. "Look, why is this such a big deal?"

Desmond began walking slower, "But...they didn't?"

"No."

"They caught me on camera Travis," Desmond said, "so why...didn't they go look for you?"

"I don't know." Travis said uncaring, you could hear the sigh in his voice. "I got up early for work, maybe they missed me?"

"Maybe." But Desmond didn't want to take that chance. "But they still would have at least-"

Desmond's phone was knocked out of his hand, his arm slams into another. Travis' voice is heard drowning out as his phone lands into the grass. "Hey!" Desmond says aloud, "watch where you're going-" it's the same outfit he wore yesterday, Desmond damn was sure of it. The scruffy and unkempt look, the same torn jeans ripped to his knees, and same thick black sweatshirt. And yet, Desmond knew he could have walked off. Quickly, he grabbed his phone from the ground with Travis still on the other end and ran up to the stranger.

"It's you! H-Hey!" Desmond called from behind him.

The stranger turns casually, "...what?" He looks down at Desmond carefully, his expression neutral. Then towards his phone, "You want an apology or something?"

"No I-...I mean, you were there yesterday." Desmond says all together, breathlessly. "Umm, at the store I mean. There was...something happened."

The stranger looked up at Desmond and met his eyes. There was a peculiar shine in them, under that hood of his. Desmond felt very distracted and taken when he caught the mans voice, "Sorry," the man smiled and it was yet another distraction, "but I think you've got the wrong guy."

He turned to leave and Desmond wanted to stop him for a second time, had he not felt embarrassed for staring and muddling up his words like a child. Travis was still talking on the line, his voice faint as Desmond watched the stranger walk away with his hands in his pockets. With his face a little more than flushed, Desmond lifted the phone to his ear again.

"Des? Hey! Where are you?"

"Hey..." Desmond replied.

"Geez! What the hell happened there, you were gone off for like a several minutes," Travis exaggerated, "I heard you talking to someone?"

"Oh, no..." Desmond laughed softly, "No...no it's nothing. Listen, I'll meet you at your work place, okay?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Posted with no beta) so I admit I made Desmond seem...aloof here. Poor guy haha. Also I'm letting Travis refer Desmond by his real name in this one cause...just to not complicate things really. Things will start to move even slower otherwise, college started and I'm still working (bummer!) but otherwise I post on any little story info (or general info) about how quick the next chapters are going on my tumblr~ Thanks for showing the love so far guys!


	3. Contact

With care, he circled around his victim who laid helpless and bloody on the concrete floor. Shriveled whimpers and pleas of mercy echoed inside the abandoned building. Lucky for one of the two inside, no one could hear his petty cries. The victims teeth chattered behind his cut lips, and his eyes were damp from tears.

"P-Please! I swear...I swear I didn't mean to do it."

"I know." said his captor, holding his bloodstained lead pipe. His face was unreadable, and he towered over the poor soul. "But I suppose you did too, Chris."

"Yes- I mean," Chris choked, carefully choosing his next words. "I had to pay! Pay my rent, my bills...you know...o-or else, I'd be out on the streets! Please, come on. You understand, don't you?"

"I do." he says, and his tone is quite understanding, "But I also understood that you owed us as well however."

Chris regretted looking up, for the man before him scared him to death. The man looked at Chris with such passive eyes that you would think he was daydreaming. Chris knew then and there he was not going to find an excuse out of his own mess. Not this time. "Fuck...okay I fucking know I fucked up, okay!" he surrendered.

"Yes, you did."

"...A-And," Chris sounded hopeful, "I can pay you guys back! I swear, you guys just...you just gotta give me more time."

"You know, I bet you could," the man mused, a trail of blood close behind him dripping from his weapon as he paced around, "I do. Though only... _if_ you had time."

"No, please!"

Chris struggled to crawl backwards with his now shattered legs from his earlier beatings. The man only need to take a few strides before he was that much closer to Chris.

"Time's up." he says softly, and lifted his pipe with ease over his head. Chris instinctively held his hands up in defense in absolute horror, his eyes madly darting back and forth from the man and his death sentence.

"No! NO!" Chris sobs and yells, "God damn it, don't! I'm begging you! I'm your friend, I was your fucking _neighbor!_ I took you in when you had nowhere else to go! For God's sake, I **saved** you! We fucking lived under same roof for Christ sake!"

"I know." He said, indifferent. There was a slight glimmer in his eyes, before he struck him hard again.

"KADAR!-"

* * *

"Nothin' like a quick coffee break to relax the muscles, am I right buddy?"

Travis sighs happily, leaning against the wall. He turns to Desmond who was next to him, only to find his friend tense and lost in a deep thought. "Hey...Desmond? Are you spacing out on me again?" he then playfully shoves Desmond, who's instantly taken from his train of thought. When he appears lost and confused, Travis gives him an irritable look.

"Ugh, there you go again! I swear you never listen to me sometimes," he pouts, "it's like you don't think I'm even here." Travis proceeds to wave his free hand about in an over dramatic fashion.

Desmond chuckled quietly, "Okay, sorry princess. What is it this time?"

"You," he says, forcefully poking Desmond's shoulder, "you're doing that thing that you do again."

"What?"

Travis' eyes roll, " _That._ You're in your own little world, as usual. You came here anyways to talk to me about something and now you're spacing out on me."

"Oh, that..." Desmond frowned, "I guess it's nothing."

"It's about what happened earlier at yours, right?" Travis said, "They showed you their papers right?"

"No, well, yes they did." Desmond shuffled on his feet, feeling uncomfortable trying to talk about this. Travis seemed to take notice, so he merely nodded along, taking a quick sip of his drink.

"And? Left you alone after right?"

"I..." Desmond tries to recall the moment one of the officers handed him a clipboard with a signed form, and then everything else seemed straightforward, "I had to file some things, some information. I gave them my details." He says, with a partial lie. But it didn't matter now; Desmond kept himself calm for Travis. He didn't want to seem too into detail, not even since Travis was the only person who would actually listen to him.

"I see." Travis stared into his half empty cup, barely lukewarm.

"But they said they'd call me I guess, if anything happened."

"True," Travis shrugged, a smile on his face, "not like we got anythin' to hide eh? Oh, speaking of calls..." he slurred his voice, "I bet you haven't called _her_ yet am I right? Our lovely ladies of the night before."

"Oh not this again." Desmond tried to pull off a frustrated look, covering his face in his hand. But the small quirk on his lips gave him away.

"Come oooon, what's the worst that could happen?" Amazingly, Travis had an annoying way of persuasion that Desmond usually fell for. Either that or he went with it just so his friend would stop talking all together.

Desmond groans, "If I do this," he pulls his phone out from his pocket, "you'd better shut up about me playing chicken."

"Wish granted." Travis backed away, his hands held up in defeat.

But before Desmond could even activate his phone, it lit up in and started to vibrate. The repetitive sound of his ringtone chimed through the air, and it caught Travis' attention immediately. "Oh! Is that her already? Wow, talk about great-"

"It's not her." Desmond interrupts, "There's...no number." He glares down at the glowing screen. His phone just kept on ringing, yet the caller ID was not showing. Where what should have been numbers, the words ' _Unknown'_ was displayed.

"Probably a scammer?" Travis said, he leaned against the wall again feeling bored, "Just answer it anyway."

But Desmond did not; he ignored Travis' advice and stared at his phone for as long as he could as it continued to ring. His finger was itching to answer it however, but...

Travis abruptly jumps over to Desmond, pressing the call button and catching his friend off by surprise. "Oi!" Desmond shouts, yanking his phone away and out of his reach. "Damn it Travis!"

Travis simply winked in response to his actions with a teasing smile. Still, Desmond reluctantly pressed his ear to his phone. "...hello?"

There was no answer, not at first. He couldn't quite place what he was hearing on the other end, but it sounded like the grilling sound of static. Some sort of interference was on the line, and Desmond was oblivious as to why.

 _'Bad connection?'_ He tries again, this time louder. "Hello?"

There's breathing this time, the static still as loud as ever but there was the distinct noise of someone breathing down the phone. It was heavy and slow, as if the caller was taking deep breaths right beside him. It tickled his ear. The sound nerved Desmond so that it raced down his body. He hung up at once.

"Fuck sake."Desmond growled, his voice shivering.

"What was that all about?" Travis asks.

"I don't know, seriously. Dude didn't even bother answering back to me."

"Maybe they got the wrong number?"

"Maybe." Desmond looked doubtful, "Maybe not."

"Well," Travis' finishes his drink, tipping the cup straight up and throwing it into a nearby trash can. "I gotta go man, my breaks over now." He stretches his arms out, "See you later?"

Desmond looks down at his phone again, "Nah, another time. But I'll call you. Take it easy Travis."

They part ways, Travis returning to work with a moan and the best smile he could muster. He pulls on the company's apron uniform that he left aside. Desmond sympathetically smiles for him, waving goodbye and was thankful he was off for the day.

Desmond exits the building, deciding the take the back doors but regrets it instantly. _'Shit, which way...which way?'_ He's slightly lost already. He appears from the back ends of the factory, but he doesn't quite remember his way around.

"Crap, I get lost in the stupidest of places." He mutters to himself. He walks down further, towards the streets and away from the warehouse. Nothing seems familiar. "Christ, why'd I exit from there? I should never exit there damn it."

Desmond decides it's better if he finds some sort of landmark, a sign post even, to help jog his memory. He spots a street sign in the distance and he squints at it. Something in his leg shakes, and he doesn't take another step. His phone is vibrating again, although very briefly. He pulls it out idly, looking through his messages.

 _'Blank?'_ he frowns, _'Who would send a blank message?_

It vibrates once more a second later, and Desmond is sent straight to the next message. His lips carefully read the words.

"They've found you."

 _'What the...'_ Desmond doesn't register the sentence, instead he is left with confusion. He is desperate to understand what exactly was sent to him, but a rush of wind passes him like lightning. A man runs blindly and barges through. Desmond is lucky enough to not have been knocked down.

"My bag, my bag!"

Desmond's head spins to the cries of an elderly woman.

* * *

"It's done, Chris is gone." says Kadar. He hides himself under the shade of lowered balcony from the back of an apartment outside.

"Are you sure?"

A grumble is heard under Kadar's breath, "Of course it is. The man is a bloody corpse. You want me to use my phone and send you a picture or something?"

"Be serious." the man says fiercely, he's having none of Kadar's idle back talk.

"Fine." Kadar sighs, "He's dead, and the body is gone too. What now?"

"Good," the man sounds much more relaxed, "nothing for now. Get rid of this phone and come back as soon as possible."

Kadar scowls, he becomes reluctant. "Seriously? I just got this one, I don't think-"

"Don't fucking argue with me," The man snaps, "just do it like always."

Kadar doesn't even get a chance to reply because the man has already hung up. "Asshole." He grumbles, pulling out a packet of cigars from his coat pocket. His hand covers his mouth as he lights up his cigarette, and his shoulders sag when he slowly blows out his first smoke. It sends a tingling feeling through out his body. His muscles and his mind are calmer.

"I need a new job," he mutters, laughing quietly to himself. Kadar takes another long drag before heading for the pavement, where crowds of chatter and traffic was heard. When Kadar appears from the alley, he spots a nearby couple outside a café and a family of four smiling as they bypass him. A few people here and there, but he only manages to catch a glimpse of two people in a chase. One running after another from across the road before they turn a corner and vanish.

"Hmm?"

He blinks. Some of the people who were in line of the pursuit looked confused and flustered, but otherwise they turn a blind eye and walk away. Kadar sees an old lady before him, looking in the same direction as he was just then, and smiling. He thinks of nothing else, and joins a small crowd.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for another long wait! This took longer than I thought and so much editing took place I think I've lost count. I even planned to stop it at the chase bit to be honest.
> 
> So yeah, wow...look what I've done here lol (I've a feeling I might have put some of you off now) Don't suppose any of this took any of you guys by surprise? (and just what the hell have I turned a beloved younger Al-Sayf brother into!?) Guess we'll just have to wait and see...(all grammatical mistakes are mine, thanks for the support guys!)


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